


Something's Gotta Give

by ConcreteUnicorn



Category: All Time Low (Band), Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-11-02 09:57:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20706824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConcreteUnicorn/pseuds/ConcreteUnicorn
Summary: Alex is (im)patiently waiting for his date to show up, when who does he see but his too-beautiful ex.  He doesn't want to talk, but oh man it looks like he might have to.  Who knows, maybe something good will come of it?





	Something's Gotta Give

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in ten years, but the characters called to me. I really tried to make it something special, so I hope you all like it. I'm excited to write more!
> 
> Beta'd by the darling sparklehag!

Alex tapped his fingers nervously on the bar, and scrolled through Instagram without really looking. His date was already ten minutes late, and he was beginning to worry that this one was bailing too. That had happened a lot lately. Sometimes the day of, sometimes the day before, and some of them just didn’t show at all. Message after message in his inbox read “Sorry, you’re so cute, but I just met someone and I have to cancel!”, “Hey man, can’t meet, something came up.”, and even one “met a hottie, bye!” If he was being honest with himself, it was starting to feel malicious. 

Alex sighed and ordered a beer. The bartender had been side-eyeing him anyway, and this would at least give him something to do. As he picked at the beer’s peeling label, he tried not to dwell on how unsuccessful dating had been. Maybe it was for the best; his heart wasn’t really in it. Six months ago, he would have sworn he’d never date again. The breakup with Brendon had been so embarrassing - both of them drunk, screaming at each other, throwing things. Alex had been sure Brendon was cheating, and refused to listen to any denials. Brendon was so beautiful and so popular, and Alex was...Alex. He saw how people reacted to Brendon, men and women alike. And Brendon absolutely basked in it. Alex couldn’t relate.

When that too-familiar laugh had first drifted across the room, Alex assumed he was hearing things. There was no way Brendon was  _ here _ , at this dingy, Chinatown bar. Brendon had expensive taste, and this place was….not. The bartop was sticky, the stools peeling, the floor grimy. Nothing could be farther from the high-end West Hollywood bars and clubs they had frequented together- places with sparkling lights and 21-year scotch. Alex looked down at the torn knees of his skinny jeans and tugged at the fraying threads. Brendon always hated when he went out in distressed jeans...is that why he’d worn almost nothing else recently? But that laugh floated across the room again, and Alex’s date still wasn’t here yet, and he just couldn’t  _ not _ look. Legs crossed, one elbow resting on the bar, Alex turned towards the sound, expecting, as usual, to see some stranger with an unfortunately-similar voice. Moment by fleeting moment, Alex realized that he wasn’t imagining anything, he would have recognized that profile, that  _ smile _ anywhere. Eyes crinkling at the corners, perfect white teeth, shining hair coiffed high. And across from him in the booth, was that….Alex blanked on the name. Some guy he was supposed to go out with recently. There were so many recently, and so many that suddenly bailed. Finally Alex knew why.  _ Who wouldn’t bail on me for Brendon? _ _ Those freckles could make a man do anything _ .

Brendon’s night was not going well. It had been another long day in the studio, singing upbeat songs he had written when life was going better. He was hoping he could get this date back to his apartment quickly-- spending another night alone would probably kill him. Well, that’s how it felt anyway. Brendon knew he was a drama queen. He was totally on his game tonight, too. This guy was cute, and clearly nervous. He estimated he could get this one home and naked in his bed within an hour. Maybe an hour and a half, if there was traffic. He laughed as his date told a story he didn’t really hear. It didn’t matter. 

As one song quieted and began to fade into the next, there was a clatter from the bar, followed by a loud curse. Brendon glanced over, and had to do a double-take as he recognized the messy brown hair and rose hand tattoo of his adorably clumsy ex. From what he could tell, Alex had somehow knocked a beer bottle directly into his lap. The shadow of a smile touched his lips as he watched Alex try to dry his pants with tiny bar napkins. Alex finally seemed to give up, and looked defeated. He balled up the damp napkins in one hand, and looked up to set them back on the bar, tossing his hair out of his face in a quick, familiar gesture.

Alex froze mid-motion. For just a second, the cold beer pouring onto his pants had made him forget all about Brendon. With that careless head toss though, he had caught sight of him again. And this time, Brendon was looking right back at him. Alex’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. He tried to get up, to walk right out the door, but his legs wouldn’t obey. He sat frozen, unable to break eye contact. And was Brendon smirking? How heartless was he, to be smirking? Brendon moved first. With an apologetic gesture to his date, he said something brief and inaudible, and stood up.  _ No, no, he’s not coming over, why is he coming over??? _

“You don’t have to look so scared,” Brendon smiled. Alex looked back at him, stricken.

“Why are you here?” Alex wondered.

“I wanted to talk to you, is that okay?”   
  


“No, I mean, why are you  **here** ?” Alex gestured broadly at the dirty, almost-empty bar. “You never come to places like this.”

Brendon glanced at the floor, suddenly serious. “A lot has changed. Can we go somewhere and talk?”

“What about your date?”

“He doesn’t matter. You’re what matters. Can we go somewhere and talk?” Brendon repeated, his voice earnest. 

Alex knew he should say no. It wasn’t fair to Brendon’s date, and it wasn’t fair to him, that Brendon would act like he cared. Obviously he didn’t care. Alex had ruined everything with his insecurity and his accusations. He couldn’t help himself though, he never could where Brendon was concerned. He stood up slowly, aware, as always, of how much taller he was. Alex noticed Brendon’s hand move towards his, as if on instinct, and then retreat. He wanted to reach out and take it, but knew he couldn’t give in. Nothing good would come of this, and physical contact would only make the inevitable fallout worse.

They left the bar into a balmy LA night. Summer was fading, but that didn’t mean much. Long days still left the sidewalks radiating heat as the sun went down. Alex could feel warmth seeping through the bottoms of his worn-out red high-tops. There was a tight silence, the two men keeping pace, neither quite knowing how to behave. Alex shivered despite the warmth, and put his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket. He felt awkward walking next to Brendon like this, desperately wanting to touch him, but knowing that he couldn’t. Shouldn’t.

Brendon could feel the waves of tension radiating from Alex. He didn’t blame him. Brendon couldn’t even remember half the things they’d screamed at each other that night. Panic! had just come off a three-month North American tour, and Brendon had only been home twice in that time. He knew he changed on tour, became more dramatic and less thoughtful. He got too used to the adulation and attention, and wasn’t always the partner he should have been. Alex never had that problem, and he’d never understood. Sweet, kind, funny, generous Alex, who got so nervous on stage but still gave the performance of a lifetime, every time. When Brendon was on stage, he could feel the outpouring of energy from the crowd, and used it to feed his own performance. The downside was that he came to expect it. Coming home was like coming down, relearning how to cope, remembering that the world did not in fact revolve around him. Of course Alex had been overjoyed to have him home, but he had been half-expecting a prince’s welcome.

Alex finally broke the silence. “Where are we going?” He asked quietly. Brendon had no idea. He hadn’t even really been paying attention. He turned into the first restaurant he saw- a little hole-in-the-wall, with dirty tables and faded pictures of food on the walls. Slipping into a booth in the corner, Brendon immediately started fiddling with the paper-wrapped chopsticks on the table. Picking at the splintery ends of the wood, he looked up at Alex cautiously. The last traces of bravado left him as he took in Alex’s demeanor. In the fluorescent light, it was clear that Alex hadn’t been sleeping. Dark circles lined his eyes, and the striped t-shirt was hanging loosely off his already-lanky frame. He needed a shave.

A waitress bustled over, plastic-covered menus in hand. Brendon couldn’t deal with choice though, and waved her off with a “Hot tea, please. Two cups.”

Alex looked up at him through his lashes. “Brendon, what are we doing here?”

Brendon didn’t know how he could possibly say everything at once, but he was going to try.

“I’m sorry.”

Alex blinked and raised his head, finally making direct eye contact. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” Brendon repeated. “For everything.”

“But…wait. What are you - hang on - were you actually cheating on me??”

Brendon’s eyes widened. “What? No! No, of course not! I’m sorry for not realizing what I had when I had it. I’m sorry I took you for granted. I’m...I’m sorry for treating you like an option, and not a priority.”

Alex couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Brendon was apologizing? This wasn’t possible. As he tried to process what was happening, the waitress came back with a teapot and two cups on a tray. Before Alex could even get his hands out of his pockets, Brendon was pouring the tea. He pushed the cup across the table, and Alex reached out for it, their fingers brushing briefly as Alex took hold of the warm porcelain. Brendon’s cheeks flushed. Since when did Brendon blush? First an apology, and now a blush? What was next, not wearing those tight black pants on tour?

“I was the one who didn’t believe you when you swore you weren’t cheating. How can you be apologizing?

“Alex, I was such a dick. I know I was. Going on tour does something to me. I should have called you more, I should have invited you to the California dates. I should have stayed sober and present during my visits.” “There’s so much I should have done, but I just didn’t know how.”

Alex’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. “You know, I do like to party.”

Brendon chuckled. “I know. Oh my god, I do know. You’re just…you’re just so sweet. Our life was so cozy and peaceful. I guess I didn’t realise that maybe I could share this tour side of me with you.”

Alex wrapped his hands around his cup, absorbing its warmth. His back straightened as he sat back more comfortably against the booth’s ripped faux-leather seat. “So what are you doing here in Chinatown? What could make you sink so low?” Alex raised one eyebrow, allowing the traces of sarcasm drip into his voice.

Brendon’s smile faded. “To be honest, I was hoping to run into you.”

Alex’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

Brendon shifted in his seat. “Um…yeah. Your sister  _ may _ have told me you’ve been hanging out here. I’ve been trying to reach you for a couple months, but apparently you blocked my number, and your band has been stonewalling me hardcore.”

Alex actually laughed at that. “Jack give you a hard time?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe. I don’t think Rian would have been so tough on his own, but with Jack mouthing off and Zack being friggin’ huge, there was no way they were going to help me.”

Alex’s deep brown eyes seemed to glow at the kindness of his bandmates. “Yeah, they’re good guys.”

“They love you, that’s for sure,” Brendon smiled. His brow furrowed as he looked into his teacup. “And so do I.”

Alex’s breath caught in his throat. In their year together, Brendon had never said it. Alex had come to believe he never would. “You do?”

“Yeah. But you don’t need to believe me. Jesus, I know I’ve given you plenty of reason not to.”

Alex reached across the table, taking Brendon’s hands in his own. “I love you too.”

Brendon’s face split into a wide grin. Lifting Alex’s hands to his mouth, he kissed them. “Want to get out of here?”

Alex tossed a $5 bill on the table in response and stood, offering his left hand for Brendon to take as they left. Their calloused guitarist’s fingers twined, Alex’s rose glowing in the golden LA dusk.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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FIN.


End file.
